


Mama Bears Don't Stand Aside

by Tassos



Series: Mama Bears [1]
Category: Farscape, Firefly
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, Gen, Spoilers PKW, the Noodle Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-09
Updated: 2009-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:30:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassos/pseuds/Tassos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another deal has gone sour for Mal, but a pair of rather interesting locals are willing to trade gunslinging skills for medical help. Yeah, Mal's not sure what he's got himself into either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mama Bears Don't Stand Aside

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by the wonderful wendelah1 who was also a cheerleader on ficfinishing, an lj community without which I would not have finished this story. Thanks to everyone there for the encouragement and support.

"How is he?" was the first thing John asked when he got home just before dark.  Aeryn looked up from soothing back the hair on D'argo's forehead.  
   
"Still feverish," she said quietly.  She let her head fall back against the wall with a sigh as John joined her on the edge of D'argo's cot.  "He doesn't want to drink anything and the medicine's not working."  He'd only fallen asleep a short while ago, miserable but unable to cry anymore.  John's hand on her thigh startled Aeryn upright.  She hadn't even realized her eyes had closed.  
   
"Hey, what time's your shift?" asked John.  
   
"No," Aeryn shook her head.  "I can go."  
   
"You're dead on your feet, Aeryn."  
   
"And you've been working all day," she countered, straightening up.  "You should get sleep while you can."  
   
"Aeryn."  
   
"I'll be fine, John."  She gave herself a shake to get her blood moving.  
   
"Yeah.  Tell me that without the yawn."  John took her hand and waited until she looked at him.  "I don't want you down there half asleep.  I'll talk to Gilly and explain, see if I can get off early."  
   
Aeryn felt the exhaustion in her bones and hated that he was right; she was in no condition for busting heads.  The bar and whorehouse where she worked nights was no place for falling asleep.  Gilly had already been too understanding about D'argo, but Aeryn couldn't risk getting busted back to the day shift by missing another night.  They needed the income.  Tonight would be the second that John had covered.  
   
"What are we going to do about D'argo?" she asked, the question leaving her emptier each time she uttered it.  Every remedy they could get their hands on hadn't worked, leaving D'argo miserable and more difficult with each day.  He wouldn't eat and getting water in him and kept there was like trying to wrestle a horse to the ground.  They didn't know what was wrong with him and couldn't risk going to the med center even had they been able to afford it.  The med center meant records and they couldn't risk notice by the Alliance.  
   
"I don't know."  John ran his other hand over D'argo's head and didn't meet her eyes.  "I'll keep asking around for anyone who knows a doctor we can trust."  An empty hope, Aern knew, and a hard truth of the life they now led.  Doctors good enough to help didn't work in the slums.  Doctors that wouldn't ask questions had a price they couldn't pay.   
   
"Have you eaten?"  John finally looked at her.  
   
Aeryn wasn't hungry, but she shook her head anyway.  She felt sick herself, a sickness of heart and helplessness.  She would do anything to stop D'argo's pain; it was that simple.  But she couldn't.  
   
She watched John pull together the protein food cubes into something resembling dinner as sleep crept upon her again.  The bowl he handed her was warm in her hands, more soup than solid which allowed her to drink it one handed.  John ate two bites at a time as he changed out of his shop clothes covered in engine grease, and into his old leather pants, black shirt, and peacekeeper vest.  He slid his knife into a boot and strapped Aeryn's revolver to his thigh.  
   
Dressed, he turned back to her frowning.  "Eat," he said.  
   
"Stay safe," Aeryn replied as he came over and kissed first her forehead, then D'argo's, smoothing away his fretful whimpers that twisted in Aeryn's gut.  
   
"Aeryn."  
   
"I know."  His eyes were a reflection of how she felt, and Aeryn held them until he turned and left.

* * *

Smoke and booze and grime shaded the bar in colors of brown.  Laughter and music and the sound of a thousand drunks clattered around, setting John's teeth on edge.  Gilly had patted him on the shoulder when he showed up instead of Aeryn and explained.  She wasn't sure about an early night, but didn't give him a flat no either.  The docks were busy; her girls needed someone to keep the crewmen in line.  
   
John eyed the rowdy crowd, wishing he were back home with Aeryn and D'argo instead of stuck here, keeping an eye out for guns and knives and unruly behavior.  The last few hours had been situationally quiet as far as John could tell.  He and Donner had only had to ask one guy to lay off the moonshine so far with minimal fuss.  
   
Unlike the fuss that was kicking up in the corner.  It caught John's eye, not because it was rowdy,  
but because it was still.  Four men, two on two across from each other, only one pair with drinks.  At the moment, too many hands were hidden by the tabletop.  John meandered over, not too obviously, but all four were aware when he sidled up to the table, though not all of them looked at him.  
   
"Y'all better not be thinking of shooting each other," he drawled.  
   
"Oh, not causing any trouble here," said the fellow in the brown coat.  "Are we boys?"  He smiled devilishly at his business partners who repeated, "No, no trouble."  
   
"You want to shoot each other, do it outside, or I do it for you," John warned them.  "This little party splits up in five.  Do your business and get out."  
   
He moved off out of eavesdropping range but continued to stare at them while final words, threats, and goodbyes were exchanged.  More than one look was thrown his way, but they got on with it and split up.  One pair left, the other headed for the bar.  John didn't care as long as there wasn't going to be any shooting. Casting about for other trouble, he paused briefly on the guy in the brown coat, but the man simply nodded, drained his glass, and left quietly.

* * *

John ended up staying the full shift, stumbling home in the dark, exhausted from breaking up two small fights.  His knuckles stung, his cheek ached, and underneath he could feel his muscles twitching when he finally stopped moving.  
   
Aeryn was fast asleep, curled up around D'argo on his cot.  John picked up the blanket that had slid to the floor and draped it over her before stripping out of his leather and collapsing into sleep.  
   
Crying woke him what felt like twenty seconds later, followed by Aeryn's soothing whispers and the scrape of the bucket as she dragged it closer to the bed.  John rolled himself out of bed to clean it out after and then fell asleep to the voice of Aeryn singing.  When dawn came he was more tired than when he went to sleep.  
   
Aeryn and D'argo had settled again so John didn't disturb them as he made breakfast for Aeryn to eat later.  He hit the well on his way out, trying to splash some of the sleep and stale off himself.  He still smelled like the bar, but had neither time nor energy to actually wash.  Joad frowned when he came in but didn't comment so John took it as tacit acknowledgment and went back to the Catalyst 5 engine he was rebuilding, trying not to think of the blood that had been in D's vomit.

They didn't know what it was.  D'argo had just woken up a few days ago crying in pain with upchucking hard on its heels.  None of the other kids were sick in the neighborhood, just him, and it was getting worse.

Usually the work repairing engines and other spaceship mechanical parts cleared John's head.  Repetitive and hands on, but the designs foreign enough to keep John's concentration.  He'd gotten the job after working on the landing docks for about three months, four after their pod had spun out of control and crash landed into this neighborhood of time and space.  Humans five hundred years from anything familiar yet the same in so many ways.

John had offered to take a look at Bishpip's mule when it puttered to a halt in the middle of a haul and ended up with a good word in to Joad the Frog, a big man, knew engines, and kept a scrap heap out back that he sold off to mechanics looking for parts of their own.  John couldn't answer any of the questions about makes and models he didn't know, but it only took him a minute to see that the combustion engine the Frog told him fix wasn't broken in the first place, and on that he got the job and a steady paycheck, once he proved he could fix engines that were actually broken.  
   
"You're fittin' it in wrong."  
   
Except today apparently.  
   
John jerked up at the voice of a pretty girl standing nearby that he hadn't even heard come up.  It took a moment for his eyes to refocus on her, and another to notice that at least an hour had passed.  Only then did her words sink into his head, and he checked the flow stabilizer to realize that he was hooking in the wrong lines.  
   
"Thanks," he said reaching in to undo his work and shake the part loose.  The girl was still there when he set it gently to the side, so he grabbed the rag and asked, "Can I help you with something?"  
   
"I don't know," the girl looked him over, assessing him.  "Joad said you could help me find converter belts."  
   
John wiped his hands as best he could.  "For what?"  
   
"Firefly," she answered still cautious.  After seeing him screw up a simple Catalyst 5, John didn't blame her, but as he asked the right questions and led her to the appropriate junk pile, she warmed up to him.  Once she was settled in filtering through what was usable and what wasn't, John went back to the engine, taking a moment to close his eyes before shaking his head back into the game.  He'd just about reattached the flow stabilizer when heavy boots and a loud voice called out.  
   
"Kaylee, time to go."  
   
"But Captain, you said we'd get a full day," protested the girl after converter belts.  
   
John looked up and damn if it wasn't the guy in the brown coat from last night, still in his brown coat.  He glanced over at John and did a double take.  "You!"  
   
"Hi."  John blinked twice and went back to his engine.  He felt the captain stare a moment longer before the man finally got the hint and went to corral his mechanic who put up a good protest.  
   
"Kaylee, I ain't got time for this," her captain cut her off, his voice dropping low but not low enough.  "We got a deal gone sour, two gun hands chasing Jayne a merry little chase, and one doctor who got his self snatched not ten minutes ago off the gorram boat."  
   
John's head jerked up as fast as Kaylee sputtered to a halt.  "Simon?"  Her voice quavered just a tiny bit.  The captain got her moving again and this time she followed quickly.

* * *

Mal had just about had it with Boros.  A simple job, that's all he asked.  Plenty of folk managed that just fine with their smuggling. Hell, they hadn't had anyone try to double cross them in a month.  But no, today everything just had to go to all hell in a hand basket.  Yesterday's confrontation exacerbated by Coram's holding out this morning and the thug squad message on who was who in this little corner of space, had left him with exactly one banged up mate, one pilot, one wayward mechanic, and a crazy girl needed watching.  Book was still off preachering and now the little man in front of him was telling him, that not only was his doctor trussed up, Jayne now was, too.  
   
Coram's den was too tight to take alone, even with Zoe it'd be closer to suicide than a rescue, but there was no way he was giving in to Coram.  
   
Mal took two menacing steps toward the messenger whose eyes lost their gleeful twinkle.  "You tell Coram, my people ain't back here in an hour, he's gonna find himself short more than a few men."  
   
"I'll be back tomorrow for the rest of the payment," said the messenger like he'd heard it all before.  Mal watched him saunter away, seething at the current state of affairs and wanting nothing more than to bash a particular someone's head in.  That's when he noticed last night's bouncer and today's mechanic watching from the dock post.  When they made eye contact, the guy took it as an invitation to come closer, and Mal was really getting tired of people thinking they could just waltz on his boat whenever they felt like it.

"What is it with you showin' up everywhere?" he demanded, striding down the ramp to head the guy off.  
   
The mechanic – t-shirt and cargo pants covered in grease – ignored the question.  "So I asked around and heard you were in a tight spot with the Den Mother."  His eyes flickered to where Mal had his hand on his gun, but he didn't flinch.  
   
"You come to suck me dry too?" asked Mal.  
   
"I also heard your doctor was kidnapped."  
   
Now seeing as how Coram had no idea what Simon was, that was interesting.  "What do you want?"  
   
"My son's sick." Te mechanic didn't beat around the bush.  "I help you get him back, he takes a look."  
   
"Must be pretty desperate to bet on something like this," said Mal who knew only too well where desperation could drive you.  
   
Beard stubble and bruised eyes that hadn't seen a bunk in far too long looked Mal square on.  "I don't plan on letting my boy go without a fight."  
   
Mal paused, considering.  It would make the odds better but not by much.  "My gunhand got mobbed and nabbed.  Even with your lending a hand, it'll be three against an army."  
   
"My wife makes four and we know where Coram lives," the mechanic countered.  
   
"Wife?" Mal wasn't too sure of the sound of that.  
   
"Her job I covered last night," said the mechanic.  Soldier then, if her husband was anything to go by.  He had the look of it the night before.  
   
The long and short of it was Mal could use the help, loathe as he was to admit it.  He wasn't about to leave none of his crew behind, leastwise in the hands of a man who held a grudge.  This fellow had the ring of honesty to his story, and since Mal was going in anyway, he might as well take a potential threat with him on the off chance he'd be a help.  
   
"Might be we got ourselves a deal then," he said.  
   
"Good."  The mechanic flashed him a smile that was three parts relief.  "You have anyone who can babysit?"

* * *

The mechanic's name was John Crichton and after haggling a bit, Mal finally agreed to let him bring his son aboard so Kaylee and Wash could look after him.  
   
"You want to explain that one more time, sir?" asked Zoe when he told them.  She still looked a bit pale but she was moving so Mal took that as a positive sign and didn't call her on the wince.  
   
"It'd be a hard break with just the two of us," said Mal.  "'Sides, deal's done.  Crichton should be back presently."  
   
"But they're leaving the child?  Here?"  Wash sounded half panicked and said "Ow!" loudly when Kaylee hit him.  
   
"He's just a baby," she said.  "An' he's sick.  We can't just let him be left alone, leastways when his folks is set to helpin' us."  
   
"You got a problem with babies?" Zoe arched an eyebrow at her man, and Mal knew the battle was won as Wash spluttered through that landmine.  
   
"What he got ain't catchin', is it?" asked Kaylee quietly, coming around the arguing couple.  
   
Mal shook his head.  "Crichton said it wasn't.  I asked around and he's known as an honest sort and a mean hand with a gun."  He left the rest unsaid.  Crichton and his wife were known about, especially at the bars and whorehouses where the missus worked security and Crichton was known to offer a quick looksee at a ship for a trifle.  Didn't do much for the income, but it won him friends that hadn't looked too kindly on Mal for doubting him.  It was reassuring considering Mal had agreed to trust him to watch his back.  
   
Not that he had a lot of choice with both Simon and Jayne taken.  Mal just hoped he wasn't inviting more trouble onto his boat than they could handle.

* * *

It didn't really surprise Aeryn that the ship was an ancient wreck.  Most ships were; it was a fact of life.  The eclectic crew that greeted them didn't surprise her either.  Most people weren't suited to life in space.  What did surprise her was her willingness to even consider leaving her child with these people.  
   
"Mr. and Mrs. Crichton," the captain smiled tersely when he met them at the bottom of the ramp to his ship.  
   
"Sun," Aeryn corrected him automatically.  Brown coat, scuffed boots, and easily accessible weapon low on his hip.  Three others hovered just inside the cargo bay, a mechanic, an older man, and some version of John as he was when they first met.  
   
"Sun, then," repeated the captain.  
   
Aeryn's eyes flicked back to him.  "Aeryn Sun."  
   
"Malcolm Reynolds."  The smile dropped into something more serious and genuine.  "Welcome to Serenity.  This your son, I take it," he nodded to D'argo who was snuffling miserably into her shoulder.  
   
"Who will be watching him?" Aeryn asked looking at the people behind him again.  
   
Reynolds introduced them as he led Aeryn and John onto his ship.  "Shepherd Book, Kaylee our mechanic, and Wash, pilot.  They'll take good care of him."  
   
Aeryn wasn't so sure of that.  Kaylee was young and Wash was nervous, but if they wanted this doctor to look at D'argo, she was left with little choice.  
   
Reynolds said, "This way," and showed them to the ship's infirmary where Aeryn turned a long slow circle before setting D'argo on the bed against the wall.  It was stark and overly bright, but clean enough and well cared for.  The doctor might be worth it after all.  John stood by the doorway and nodded tensely when she looked his way.  She could tell that he wanted to come over and join them but today he was in charge of the deal and ensuring that helping these people get their doctor back was worth leaving D'argo with them for a few hours.  Aeryn had already said no twice and didn't think he would let her get away with changing her mind a third time.  
   
"He's been running a fever, but you can't let him get too hot," Aeryn looked straight at the Shepherd who was probably D'argo's best bet for care.  Priests and healers tended to go hand in hand.  "Keep his body temperature below ninety-nine degrees.  This is very important," she snapped to make sure he understood that she would kill him if he let her son slide into the Living Death.  
   
"Below ninety-nine," the Shepherd repeated solemnly.  
   
Aeryn held his eye a moment longer until he looked away then grabbed the blanket that was folded to the side and tucked D'argo in.  "He's been throwing up a lot.  Sometimes blood."  John left with the captain while she explained what to expect and how she and John had been handling it, repeating the warning about his temperature twice and glaring until she had both the mechanic and pilot nervous.  
   
When John and Reynolds returned, a tall woman who was probably the first mate had joined them.  
   
"Aeryn," John called softly.  
   
"I will put a bullet in your heads if he is worse off when we return," she warned the three who would be watching D'argo.  
   
"Hey now, why don't you hold off on the threats till after the job's done," said Reynolds testily from the door, not looking too pleased.  
   
Aeryn couldn't blame him for speaking up for his crew, but it didn't stop her from saying, "It wasn't a threat."  
   
"He'll be fine.  We'll take extra-special good care of him," said Wash hastily.  "Isn't that right, Kaylee?"  
   
"You bet," squeaked the girl.  
   
"Ms. Sun, we will watch him carefully," the Shepherd settled in beside D'argo, looking prepared to stay there.  Feeling like she was abandoning her boy, Aeryn nodded one last time before joining John at the door.

* * *

Zoe nodded at Crichton's wife as she squared her shoulders and quite obviously took her mind from her child.  "Zoe Washburn," she held out her hand which the other woman took and shook.  
   
"Aeryn Sun," she replied.  
   
"I borrowed us another gun," Crichton caught his wife up on the last ten minutes and handed her the piece from Zoe's well cared for collection.  Sun knew her way around weapons, confident in her handling and assessment of the one she was given.  
   
The four of them moved into the sitting area and Mal got down to business.  "What's Coram's place like?"  
   
"It's a couple of apartment buildings joined into a compound.  He's got about twenty people there all the time and feelers everywhere," Crichton explained.  Zoe and Mal hadn't dealt with him much, preferring to work with Commerson who dealt in larger cargo.  Coram was small potatoes in comparison, a neighborhood crime boss who dealt in prostitution and the local black market.  
   
"You been there before?" asked Zoe.  If it was that large they couldn't afford to be stumbling around.  
   
Crichton nodded.  "He gave us some trouble when we moved here, so we had to go and renegotiate our terms of cohabitation."  
   
Sun tore her eyes away from the infirmary window long enough to give her husband a sharp look that suggested that 'renegotiate' was putting it lightly.  
   
"What terms would those be?" asked Mal tersely, noticing it too and not liking it.  
   
"He leaves us alone and we don't assassinate him," said Sun with a glare.  She didn't mince words, that one, and no doubt was thinking of her boy being left here with them.  
   
"More or less," Crichton tilted his head ruefully.  "In any case, I figure we go in, see if we can find your people, let you guys in the back way, get them out."  
   
"That's your plan?" Zoe raised her eyebrow.  "That's not much of a plan."  
   
"What's your plan?" Crichton asked then.  "'Cause kickin' in the front door is not going to work."  
   
"I like that plan," muttered Sun, her eyes again on the infirmary.  
   
"We don't exactly have the firepower to back that up, babe," said Crichton, reaching for and receiving her hand along with a frustrated sigh.  
   
"We'll do it your way," Mal spoke up.  "Better chance of someone gettin' in and someone there as back up, case it all goes south.  But I don't like the idea of the two of us one side of the wall and you on the other."  
   
"Sir, they'll recognize us," said Zoe, thinking of her last meeting that had left her with a gash to the head and Simon taken.  
   
"Maybe not you," said Mal.  "They was petty thugs who took Simon.  I'll wager you can get past them doors."  
   
"The two of us will go," said Sun, meeting Zoe's eyes with a brisk nod.  "You can complain about the noise or something."  
   
"Right. Aeryn knows where the back door is.  Let's get this show on the road," Crichton straightened up.  "We can talk details on the way?"  
   
Zoe exchanged a look with Mal, both of them obviously thinking that they were going in with a startling lack of information.  Mal shrugged so Zoe rolled her eyes.  "Let me get some grenades."

* * *

"So what did you do to piss off Coram anyway?"  John asked.  They had split off from the women a block back and were now coming up on the south side of Coram's stronghold.  Reynolds was a pretty focused guy, and now that they were no longer chatting about layouts and locks, he was quiet.  
   
The man gave him a quick suspicious look and said, "Deal gone south, is all.  Weren't me making it complicated."  
   
"Coram decided to give himself a little extra?" Sounded like something Coram would do.  The man had a monopoly on brute force and intimidation by sheer numbers alone.  He got away with quite a lot in their poor little neighborhood.  
   
Reynolds flashed a wry smile.  "Somethin' like that."  
   
"Yeah, he's a greedy bastard."  Coram was pretty much bottom of the barrel when it came to crime lords, but he had enough kids working for him that was still the alpha dog of the neighborhood.  John and Aeryn weren't the only ones with weird agreements with him though.  Better established entrepreneurs like Joad and Gilly paid their bribes at a discount and expected them to be worth the money or they'd raise hellfire.  And Coram knew better than to risk his customer base with petty dominance games.  Didn't mean a smuggler like Reynolds wasn't fair game.  "What were you selling him?"  
   
Reynolds didn't bother replying, just smirked irritatingly.  "Don't see how it's any business of yours."  
   
"I'm nosy," replied John easily.  "Whatever.  I don't really care.  This way."  He turned right down a back alley that snaked between two main streets and cut them into the residential section about two blocks from Coram's front gate.  They kept on straight to circle around the back.  Storefronts sagged in the sun, shying back into cool shadows.  This was an area where you knew where you were going before you got there.  Striding through with Reynolds, John let eyes slide off him, unworried about any unwanted attention.  Even when they were new in the neighborhood, few people had tried messing with him or Aeryn.  
   
A few minutes later they edged casually over to Coram's block where the storefronts were boarded over, facing inwards to the compound rather than the public street.  It was quieter here, the only people a couple of kids that were obviously Coram's, one young man and two women with guns too big for their attitudes.  
   
"Frell," John sighed, less surprised than frustrated.  The door hadn't been guarded the last time he'd gone through it.  Which was probably why it was guarded now, now that he thought about it.  
   
"This don't look good," Reynolds muttered back, eyeing the heavy armament the kids were carrying.  
   
"What you lookin' at?" one of the girls demanded, taking a cocky step forward.  She was short and Chinese but no less threatening because of it.  The other two hung back, not ready to join in, but twitchy fingers ready.  
   
Frell it.  "Lookin' for the back door," said Crichton, taking a step toward her that turned into a swagger.  Beside him he felt Reynolds stiffen, but the man kept his mouth shut.  
   
"That right?" said the girl.  "It's right here," she nodded her head over her shoulder where the other two lounged by the iron door.  "I don't suggest tryin' to go through it."  She gave them a toothy grin and John almost laughed.  She was so goddamn young and here she was, finger on the trigger and a smile on her face.  
   
"Who said anything about tryin'?" asked Reynolds with a completely fake smile.  "Now the way I see it, Coram paid us a mighty fine slice to come round here and meet some dandy comin' out the back all quiet like.  So you can get out of our way or take it up with Coram personal."  
   
John had to admit, that was way better than what he'd been planning on saying.  Miss Attitude looked doubtful for all of two seconds before demanding, "Why weren't I told this."  
   
"Cause you're a grunt that weren't supposed to know," answered Reynolds.  "Now kindly get out of my way before I shoot you so we can wait here all civilized like."  His hand twitched near his gun, and John let his do the same.  The girl didn't back down, he'd give her that, but she did look away first which was just as good.  
   
"If you try anything, I'll plug you full of holes," she said before grudgingly giving ground.  
   
"Wouldn't have it any other way," said Reynolds.  
   
"What's your name kid?" asked John.  
   
"What's it to you?"  
   
"Did a good job at your post.  I can put a good word in with Coram."  
   
She clearly didn't believe him.  "Shut up and sit over there," she gestured with her weapon to the wall by the door.  John and Reynolds went, never turning their backs on the kids who settled restlessly on the other side.  
   
"That went well," Reynolds murmured.  
   
"Yeah," John agreed.  "Let's just hope we don't get shot when the jig's up."

* * *

"You sure about this?" Zoe stared at the doors to Coram's compound across the rapidly shrinking distance.  Two guards, lounging on the outside, a third in the window above.  Armed but young.  
   
"Yes."  Sun didn't waver, and Zoe matched her pace for pace until they were standing on the threshold.  "I need to see Coram," she said, more of an order than a request.  The guards stood up, a little white around the eyes as they recognized Sun.  
   
"Uh, you have to have an appointment," said the shorter one on the right.  
   
"I'm making one now.  The meeting starts in ten minutes," said Sun without missing a beat.  "Or do I have to blackball you from every brothel in the ports?"  
   
The two boys looked at each other then back at Sun nervously.  
   
"You can't do that," said the taller one, standing straighter.  "We'd just go somewhere else."  
   
Sun lifted an eyebrow that clearly said she thought otherwise and waited.  The guards fidgeted, looking at Zoe for help until finally the shorter one caved.  
   
"I'll just send a message to Coram," he said, taking a moment to have a whispered conversation through the grill in the door.  It took long enough for Zoe to figure they were arguing, but the door opened sure enough and four more kids were waiting to escort them in.  Sun just strode in, easy as you please, like she and not Coram ran the place.  Zoe followed, back half a step on her left, keeping an eye out for snipers and traps.  She hadn't been here earlier with Mal and Jayne; they thought the job easy enough then that Zoe and Wash had taken some time to get a bath.  While Zoe didn't exactly regret it, it could have waited.  
   
The front courtyard was small but crowded with Coram's thugs who watched the procession like a parade.  There were whispers as Sun was recognized, making it clear that she was well known in this neighborhood – known and respected.  
   
The main building was a warren of rooms, low ceilinged and foul smelling.  Every spare space looked to be filled with all sorts of trade, bulging in cracked crates and leaving trails of loot where they'd been picked over.  Not too many folk were about inside till they got to the main room at the center where Coram held court in a corner behind a polished desk that was decidedly out of place.  
   
"Aeryn Sun, I don't know what you think you're doing barging in here!" he said, standing as soon as they entered.  Coram was a tall, burly man, by the look of him one who had worked his way up from grunt to master after a lot of years of brawling.  He lacked subtlety, and Zoe could easily see him taking offense at Mal for breathing wrong.  
   
"You have something I want," Sun cut him off coldly.  She stood loose and easy, and while her eyes might have been black with exhaustion, they were cold as steel.  
   
"Oh and what's that?  I thought you wanted no part of my operations.  Thought we agreed to keep it that way," said Coram harshly.  "And who the goram hell is that?" he added throwing an arm Zoe's way.  
   
"My son is sick," said Sun.  "John's with him and I'm not stupid enough to walk in here alone.  I hear you have a doctor."  
   
"Then you don't hear so good."  
   
"I want him."  
   
Coram folded his arms across his chest.  "Even if I did, what makes you think you could have him.  All you got's your gun.  And as we both know, you ain't stupid enough to kill me."  He leveled a stare right back at Sun, who showed her first cracks by twisting her head and blowing out a frustrated breath.  
   
"Fine.  What do you want?"  
   
Coram smiled, showing his stained teeth.  "You working for me."  
   
Sun clearly didn't like that idea, but she didn't refuse it right away either.  Zoe watched the tight line of her shoulders and wondered if she really would accept.  But no, Sun wasn't one for following orders from the likes of Coram.  
   
"I want proof you have him first," she finally said.  
   
Coram's greasy smile got wider.  No good on subtle at all.  
   
He led them himself to where Simon and Jayne were cramped with five other people in a reinforced room with a steel door.  Zoe hung back as much as she could; Jayne and Simon weren't too good on subtle either, leastways not in these situations.  Coram had his boys wave their guns and wrestle Simon, protesting and hollering to the hall, three of them on Jayne to keep him back from the open door and the smell of fresh air.  
   
"Really, I was doing just fine in the cell," Simon was saying.  "No need to get violent."  
   
Coram smacked him across the mouth to shut him up, then snarled.  "Talk doctor."  
   
"Talk?" Simon lifted his eyebrows at the mixed signals, and Zoe itched to go ahead and shoot Coram, but Sun had unsubtly put herself between Zoe and Coram.  Her eyes had seen all that Zoe's had and that was that there weren't no chance of fighting it out here and now.  
   
"Talk."  
   
"Uh," Simon looked uncertainly from Coram to Aeryn who probably looked no less forgiving.  "Well, hi."  
   
Zoe rolled her eyes but Sun took pity on him.  "You a doctor?"  
   
"Uh, yes.  Yes, I am," Simon answered, a bit wide-eyed still.  
   
"Can you treat diseases?"  
   
"Yes."  She had Simon's attention now.  He straightened, no longer worried about Coram until the man shoved him back to the cell, making him stutter-step and nearly fall.

"There.  A doctor for you," said Coram.  "When do I expect you?"  
   
Sun turned and started leading the way back the way they came.  "I have to talk to John first," she said.  Coram snorted and started to follow, and in the brief moment when their bodies turned and before the door slammed closed, Zoe was able to look right at Simon and Jayne hovering behind him, and nod ever so slightly.  Simon's gaping mouth and Jayne's instant grin were all she needed before she followed Sun and Coram out.

* * *

Aeryn set a brisk pace back to the surface, not even caring if Coram kept up or not.  Their best chance was after breaking off from the main reception where Coram would hopefully stay.  He was arrogant enough that he just might.  If he didn't, Aeryn would just take him hostage instead.  Maybe she should just do that.  A quick glance at him as he drew up beside her dissuaded her, however.  With his size and the cramped walls, Aeryn didn't think she could bring him down fast enough.  
   
When they reached Coram's command, such as it was, Aeryn said, "I'll be back later with an answer."  
   
"You want him, you deal now," Coram countered.  It wasn't quite unexpected, but she would rather not have to seal herself into anything she'd regret later.  
   
"I have to discuss this with John first," she said.  
   
Coram smiled unpleasantly.  "All I'm asking is for you to trade one job for another.  You'll still be earning your meal.  And your little one will be alive."  
   
Aeryn glanced at Zoe, an idea forming but one that relied on Zoe finding the back door instead of her.  The other woman looked back with the same placid expression she'd worn since Aeryn had met her.  "Will you take a message to John?" She glanced back at Coram. "It seems I'll be negotiating a contract through dinner."  
   
"What should I tell him?"  Zoe's eyes flickered to Coram and back.  
   
"Tell him I've found us a doctor and that I'll be half an arn.  Oh," she added as if just thinking of it, catching Zoe's eye.  "And tell him he left," she paused ever so briefly, "his clean shirts to the right of the door, right behind the crates."  
   
Zoe nodded, eyes asking another question that she didn't voice.  Coram gestured for a couple of the boys by the door to show her out and Aeryn watched her glance left before she returned her attention to Coram and his smug smile.  The whole conversation had gone right over his head as if it were some of John's nonsense.  Aeryn held in the sigh that she would be sitting this one out.  "What are you offering?"

* * *

Mal was beginning to like Crichton for all that he wouldn't shut up.  He kept rambling on about this and that, spinning tales of breaking into banks for the kids who despite themselves were hanging off his every word.  Even the girl who was pretending to ignore them cracked a smile when he told about running with Butch and Sundance before they got themselves killed in some backwater.  The part Mal liked best was that Crichton didn't try to bring him into the conversation at all, just happy to hear his own voice speak and let Mal keep to his thoughts and worry.  
   
He weren't too worried, 'cept Simon and Jayne had been gone for near a day and no telling how a two-bit crime lord with something to prove was going to treat them considering.  Mal was sadly used to petty thugs trying to pull one over on him, but it stung when they took his people in the process.  So he wasn't worried so much as thinkin' about it.  And if Crichton kept the kids with guns here occupied with tales of daring do, so much the better for their continued health and wholeness.  
   
A scratching at the door followed by a squeak of the hinges had everyone on their feet.  The girl with the biggest gun cast a suspicious look their way and stepped between them and the door.  The other two glanced about without worryin', smiling a greeting at the boy who stepped out.   Now this boy had a touch of nerves about him.  
   
He wet his lips.  "Coram…Coram wants them."  He gestured in Mal and Crichton's direction.  
   
The girl frowned.  "I thought they was meetin' someone."  
   
"I'm just tellin' what I was told," the boy said sharply.  "They're to come in.  Now shut your yap and get out of the way.  This don't concern you."  
   
Crichton was already easing forward.  He slapped the girl on the shoulder as he passed.  "Plans change," he said with a shrug.  "Looks like we have to go in and get this dandy out."  The girl, torn, didn't put up any further protest, settling for glaring as Mal followed Crichton inside Coram's compound, easy as you please.  
   
The gloom took a moment to adjust to once the door was closed, but soon enough Mal made out the boy still shaking in his boots and his first mate with her gun on him.  "Zoe," Mal said cheerfully, noting the second boy knocked out and bleeding out his nose on the ground behind her.  
   
"Sir."  She clubbed the first kid over the head, catching his arm before he landed too hard on it.  
   
"Where's Aeryn?"  
   
"Stalling Coram with contract negotiations," said Zoe.  "We've got half an arn, she said."  
   
"That's half an hour," Crichton clarified.  "What contract negotiations?"  
   
"Simon for your wife's employment."  
   
Crichton stared at Zoe for a second, then said, "We'd better hurry."  
   
"Then less chatter and more moving," said Mal as Zoe turned and led them into the warren of hallways that Mal remembered from his first visit.  Zoe had a hell of a head for directions and didn't falter, pausing in corridors to let others pass but mostly they didn't encounter anyone until they got to the holding cells.  
   
Two guards in the ante room playing cards on a crate looked up when they entered.  Startled, they stared at the guns leveled at them for a mite too long, giving Mal and Crichton a chance to fan out from Zoe.  
   
"Don't."  Crichton waggled his weapon at them as they reached for their weapons.  They stilled, eyes wide and mouths hanging open.  
   
"Keys," Mal ordered.  The one on the right fumbled at his belt but hesitated, then threw them at Mal's face.  He tried to grab them out of the air but only managed to catch his fingers on them.  "Hun dan!"  And that's when everything went south for the second time that day.  
   
"Breach!" yelled the other kid going for his gun.  Zoe and Crichton fired, loud enough they might as well have sent a wave, and Mal scrambled for the keys while the other kid threw himself at him, knocking him back and making it a tussle.  Mal put an elbow in his eye and found the keys by rolling on them.  Crichton jumped over him to cover the door behind them while Zoe moved carefully but swiftly forward.  Mal scrambled after her.  
   
"Zoe!" he heard Jayne voice muffled through a door.  He fumbled the keys which scraped against the metal as he searched for the right one. "About gorram time!  Sure took your sweet time about gettin' us out of here," Jayne grumbled as Mal finally shoved the right key in the lock.  
   
"You better be nice or I'm leavin' you locked up."  
   
"Reynolds!" Crichton shouted from the other room.  "You better be ready to bust out of here!"  
   
Mal yanked the cell open.  Jayne grinned at him, at once pleased and predatory at the coming fight and already taking up a position flanking the other side of the cell.  Mal passed him the spare gun.  
   
"Mal, thank God," Simon said, stumbling out after him.  "But now I take it this won't be a peaceful exit?"  
   
"Got it in one, Doc," Mal grinned at him.  
   
Simon sighed.  "Typical.  Not that I'm not grateful for the rescue."  
   
It was more thanks than necessary and besides, they still had to make it out alive.  Mal led, Simon sandwiched between him and Jayne, all of them following Zoe back to the ante chamber where Crichton was holding the door against one remaining thug with a gun, more footsteps on the way.  
   
"Ready to run?" he asked, barely looking over his shoulder.  
   
Mal didn't bother taking a breath to fortify himself for the gauntlet ahead.  He knew this game.  "Let's go."

* * *

The corridors were a tight fit but they had the advantage of being crowded with crates and cargo that gave plenty of cover.  Coram had enough men to keep them occupied, but they were mostly young and the intrusion into their backyard had shaken them badly.  That left John with just one worry.  
   
"Not much further."  Reynolds slammed into the crate John was hiding behind.  They were at a T-junction: left took them to the back door, straight took them back toward the main rooms and was currently where at least five of Coram's people were shooting at them from.  
   
"I need to get through these guys," said John, loud enough to be heard as he reloaded.  
   
"What?"  Reynolds popped his head around the side of the crate for a head check.  "Why?  Back door's the other way."  
   
"Aeryn's down there."  John wasn't leaving her on her own.  Aeryn was good but there was only so much she could do when surrounded.  John was getting her out of there.  End of story.  
   
"Son of a smothered dog," Reynolds swore in Chinese.  
   
"Look.  You guys make a run for it.  I'll hang here and slip by when they chase you out the back," said John.  "We'll meet you back at your ship.  
   
"No."  Reynolds shook his head, locking a hard stare on John.  "No how.  I am not raising your kid when get yourselves killed."  
   
John bit back the immediate protest, torn, because D'argo was defenseless, and for all that Reynolds was a stand up guy so far, John didn't fully trust him, not with his son.  "I can't leave her alone," he said anyway because it was Aeryn.  Gun loaded he leaned around and fired a few shots off.  Across from them and a little back, Zoe and Reynolds's other man were keeping Coram's people down.  Coram's other prisoners were huddled further back, unarmed and useless.  Coram had better be in a forgiving mood when this all shook out or else he and Aeryn were in for a world of retribution.  
   
"Next time they reload," said John as the rhythm of the fight tapered.  
   
Reynolds leaned across him.  "Zoe!"  They had some unspoken conversation in about two microts, then Reynolds was crouching beside him and the others were preparing to make a break for it.  A beat, two more shots, then Zoe was firing continuously, the others were running and it took a moment for John to notice that Reynolds wasn't going with them.  
   
"Stow it," Reynolds said before he could ask, pointedly not looking at him.  John did and went back to listening for the passage of feet and firepower.  Coram's people were leaving a couple behind, and John wasn't going to turn an extra gun away.  
   
There was cursing from the other side of their cover.  "How the gorram hell did they get in?" one of the thugs asked.  
   
That was their cue.  Already firing as he spun to his feet, John caught one in the shoulder while Reynolds nailed the other in the belly.  They would probably live if they got help in time, John thought as he jumped over the kid with the belly wound, dancing down the hallway over the other wounded and dead.  He really hoped he remembered the way.  
   
The reassuring sound of gunfire told him they were getting close, followed by shouting from both Aeryn and Coram.  "Back off!"  
   
"You crazy whore, you got no way out!"  
   
"Then I'll make one."  
   
John barreled into Coram's main room, taking it in in a glance and immediately covering Coram who had his own weapon trained on Aeryn along with the two other guys in the room.  Aeryn in turn had a bead on Coram in a regular Mexican standoff.  Startled by his arrival, the two underlings flinched.  John took out one, Aeryn dropped and fired at Coram who shot at where her head had been a moment earlier.  She only winged him but by then the other underling was shooting back at John and he had his own problems until suddenly it all stopped.  The kid was dead and Coram was down.  
   
Reynolds, grim reaper, went over and toed him with his boot.  
   
Aeryn, by the table, smiled faintly that she was fine, pushing herself to her feet.  John rolled painfully, his whole right side scraped up from when he launched himself away from the bullets.  
   
Coram gasped and twitched as Reynolds crouched down beside him but his gun hand was empty.  "Now see," said Reynolds, "I'm a reasonable man.  I do my part of the deal, I expect you to do yours.  You get the goods, I get the money.  It goes smooth and everybody's happy."  The half smile on that was on his face dropped away.  "I don't like it when things don't go smooth.  And," he leaned closer till his face was right up in Coram's, "I don't take it kindly when my crew gets snatched.  Now you put a bandage on that and you might live to do business again."  He stood up.  
   
John and Aeryn were standing together by then, next to the door.  Aeryn was fine, just a few scratches from her roll on the ground.  "Let's go," she said quietly as Reynolds came towards them.  
   
"He gonna make it?" John asked.  
   
"Don't rightly know," said Reynolds, his face still cold and blank.  "Don't rightly care neither."  
   
John gave Coram one last look before following Aeryn out.  He hoped he bled out.  Otherwise, he and Aeryn were going to have to clear out of town in a hurry.

* * *

They left unchallenged.  The alarm had gone up but the kids fleeing the carnage spooked the others into running too, leaving the path clear enough to the back door.  The girl who'd guarded the door so diligently was knocked out cold, one of the boys lay bleeding while the third huddled against the wall in stunned shock.  Mal felt a twinge of sorry for them but didn't let it linger even as Crichton paused by the girl to check she was alive.  His anger hadn't quite settled at being shot at or from Coram's smug smile when he thought he had one over on Mal.  He didn't have a whole lot of compassion left.  
   
Back in the street the commotion died off quick.  Merchants and hawkers turned an eye to those who fled but turned it away again quick, and they didn't find anyone looking for more trouble that wasn't theirs.  Crichton led them out of the back alleys, but on the thoroughfare, Mal pulled ahead, not worried, just wanting to make sure everything was square.  The other two paced him, eyes peeled but in no less of a hurry.  
   
Wash was waiting for them out front of the ramp, twitching as he paced, and it wasn't till Sun darted forward, legs stretching into a sprint that Mal heard the cries that pierced the chatter of the docks.  Wash got out of her way, and Crichton's as he barreled after, falling in with Mal as he crossed the hinges.  
   
"Everyone's back safe," he said at Mal's look.  
   
Mal slammed his hand on the controls to close up.  "Simon and Jayne all right?"  He hadn't had time for niceties when they broke out.  
   
"Jayne's a little roughed up.  Simon's already helping the kid.  We staying or going?"  
   
The cries had calmed a mite, tension easing with them as Mal cast a look around the half empty cargo hold.  At the far end, he could just see Simon rummaging around through the open infirmary door and Zoe holding a patch of cloth on Jayne.  "Staying for now," said Mal, moving again.  "We still ain't been paid and until the purple bellies show, which I don't think they've a mind to, I mean to see what we can salvage from this mess."  
   
"So keep the engine idling," Wash said with a lift to his eyebrow that Mal chose to ignore.  
   
Kaylee and River were sitting outside the infirmary, not quite relaxed.  Kaylee jumped up and gave him a hug when he came in, and River was humming something.  Mal couldn't read her state of mind, but Kaylee was a bundle of nerves and needed doing something.  
   
"Kaylee, you think you can get whatever supplies you wanted 'fore the sun goes down?" he asked.  
   
Shifting gears quickly, Kaylee nodded.  "Shouldn't be a problem s'long as you got somethin' to pay with."  
   
"I plan on working something out."  Mal's smile shifted to Zoe who'd just walked out to join them and broadened to include Jayne a step behind.  "I figure it's about time we got ourselves paid."

* * *

The doctor seemed younger out of the darkness of Coram's holding cell but he was calm and got out of Aeryn's way when she ran into the med bay.  D'argo was crying, face bright red with his eyes scrunched up tight, curled in on himself.  He was exhausted and in pain, and Aeryn slid her hands over him, under him, pulling her little boy into her lap and wishing that it was over for him.  
   
"Here," Simon, that's what Zoe had called him, held a damp cloth in front of her.  D'argo was warm but he wasn't shaking, not yet.  Aeryn wiped his forehead and down his cheeks, murmuring, "I'm here, I'm here."  His fist clenched in her coat, and he turned his head into her chest.  
   
"He okay?"  John came and sat beside them while the doctor rattled through drawers.  
   
"How long has he been ill?" Simon asked, words precise, tone professional.  
   
"Six days," said John, rubbing his hand up and down D'argo's leg.  "The fever started on day two, then broke, then came back worse."  
   
"Have you given him anything for the fever?"  
   
John handled the questions, what they had tried, what had and hadn't worked, with most remedies falling in the latter category.  Aeryn patted D'argo's back and watched as the doctor sorted through the bottles he'd pulled out and started prepping a needle.  
   
"I'm going to give him something to try and bring his fever down.  Then I need to draw some blood.  You haven't seen any other doctors?"  Simon came over and swiped D'argo's arm with an alcohol wipe.  Aeryn's grip tightened but D'argo didn't struggle; he was too tired.  His cries had softened from cranky wails to whimpers and she simply wanted him to be better.  
   
"No," John answered the question and Simon's jaw clenched.  "It's not just the money," John added watching him.  Simon depressed the syringe slowly, hands never wavering even as his eyes looked up questioningly.  "Whatever you find, or see... it doesn't go beyond us.  That clear?"  
   
"Patient confidentiality isn't an added charge," Simon bristled.  Done, he pulled the needle out and placed his empty hand on D'argo's head.  
   
"Hey.  I mean it."  John shifted, shoulders squaring and his feet planted firmly on the floor.  The doctor wasn't slow, Aeryn gave him that.  He looked from John to her and back and while he hesitated, he didn't back away.  
   
"What aren't you telling me?"  
   
"It doesn't go beyond us," John repeated.  "We helped get you out of that prison."  He let the rest go unsaid, letting the hand on his thigh next to his holster do the speaking.  Simon's eyes lingered on it, jaw clenching again.  
   
"You have my word.  And I wouldn't anyway."  
   
"Not even your captain?"  
   
Simon shook his head.  "Not even if he threatened to kick me off."  
   
It would have to do.  He was as trustworthy as they were going to get, even if he was lying about his captain.  She met John's eyes over D'argo's head then turned back to Simon who stood straight and stiff, waiting.  
   
"I'm not human," she said quietly.  "D'argo's half.  And no, don't ask."  
   
Simon's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise.  He stared at her but the shock passed quickly, replaced by questions in his face, but he swallowed them down, several times over.  Finally he said, "But you must be related, otherwise he wouldn't exist."  
   
"Kissing cousins," said John.  "But with enough physiological differences to maybe cause problems."  
   
"Okay."  Simon ran his hand through his hair and when his gaze caught on Aeryn's again, he stilled.  Still processing, then.  "Okay," he repeated.  "I'm going to need to know everything you know.  I'll need blood and a scan."  He turned away, looking for something.  "I don't have a full body scanner and we're nowhere near a decent hospital..."

"No hospitals," said John sharply, standing crackling with sudden energy.  Simon did take a step back this time.  
   
"No, of course.  It would take too long to break in properly."  He offered a weak smile that faded quickly.  "But I've never even thought about dealing with a half-human patient before."  
   
D'argo snuffled, and Aeryn rubbed his side to soothe him, murmuring, "shh, it'll be all right," into his hair.  When she looked up again, Simon was again looking for things on the far side of the room.  John was nervous.  He squatted beside them.  
   
"Aeryn."  
   
"It'll be all right," she repeated softly for her husband.  Simon would help.  He'd figure out what was happening and he would fix it.  She believed that.  She had to.

* * *

Zoe rapped on the door to the infirmary before she and Mal went to deal with the half of the cargo that Coram had and see if they couldn't find another buyer.  
   
Sun sat with her boy in her arms singing softly.  Zoe couldn't make out the words but the tune was nothing she'd heard before.  Crichton was on the floor beside them, half asleep it looked like, though his attention shifted to Zoe as soon as she knocked.  Simon looked up from where he was setting up some machine on the counter.  
   
"We're going back into town," Zoe said to him softly.  "You need anything?"  
   
Simon thought that over, but shook his head.  "I don't know yet."  
   
"I've got my radio, if you think of something."  
   
"John."  Sun nudged her husband with her knee.  
   
"What?"  
   
"Go talk to Joad and Gilly."  
   
"I'm not leaving you -"  
   
"We'll be fine.  You need to make sure we still have work."  
   
Crichton protested but he lost the argument.  Grumbling he placed a kiss on both Sun's forehead and the boy's and followed Zoe out to the cargo bay.  Jayne was strapping something to his leg, pulling his pants over and tucking them into his boots.  
   
"Where's Mal?" he asked.  
   
"Comin' " said Zoe.  
   
"He's not coming with us, is he?" He jerked his head at Crichton.  
   
"Got my own errands to run," said the man.  He eyed the remaining crates, but when he turned to Zoe he only said, "Who are you going to try to sell them to?"  
   
"There's a man we know in Pinkerton area."  
   
"Ho Yiu?"  
   
"You know him?"  
   
"Heard of him.  Joad sometimes deals with him.  Haven't met the man myself."  
   
"Count yourself lucky."  Mal clattered down the steps behind him.  He frowned at seeing Crichton standing ready to go with them.  "You're not –"  
   
"No.  Got my own stuff to take care of."  Crichton shook his head.  Zoe hit the door controls and fell in behind Mal as he passed.  
   
They split up at the first market square, Crichton heading back toward Coram's territory while they headed for the closest public transport to get across the city.  
   
Zoe had only met Ho Yiu one other time.  He mixed his hand in trading some of the harder not so recreational drugs, and as soon as Mal found out about that they were out of there as fast as they could extract themselves.  It weren't smart to get mixed up with drug dealers.  They tended to have certain expectations and not so reasonable negotiating skills.  Unfortunately, if they wanted to make something off this run then they were stuck dealing with him.  Commerson had turned them down twice, and since Coram worked within Ho Yiu's larger territory, he was the one they had to see.  The way the man at the door had been expecting them, moving the goods that were at Coram's compound wasn't going to happen without Ho Yiu's say so.  
   
"Malcolm Reynolds."  Yiu sat behind a great big desk, ornately carved that went with the gold embroidered curtains that hid the concrete walls.  The room was lit with a soft light from lamps in the corners of the room, a sentry beside each one.  Zoe and Jayne spread out behind Mal.  
   
"Ho Yiu.  I can guess from the welcome that you know what I'm here about."  
   
"You tangled with Coram."  Yiu steepled his hands in front of him, a small smile touching the edges of his expression.  "Or should I say, Coram tangled with you, much to his detriment.  He lives, by the way, though I fear for not much longer."  
   
"No concern of mine," Mal shrugged.  "He took two of my crew."  No mistaking the warning there.  
   
"Hm.  And now you have no buyer."  
   
"I'm willing to deal."  
   
"Hm."  Yiu didn't say anymore, and the silence stretched out, thinning with the tension.  Mal stood calm as you please, Zoe too, but Jayne was almost to fidgeting when Yiu finally spoke.  "I understand you had help with Coram."  
   
"A couple of locals."  
   
"Crichton and Sun," Yiu filled in.  "A most interesting pair."  
   
Mal did twitch then, just a shift of his shoulders.  "I didn't ask."  
   
"Hm.  What did they want from you?"  
   
"That's between me and them."  
   
"I thought sure they were from the Alliance when they first came here.  Two soldiers who fear nothing.  And then they kept their heads down so I thought they must be Independents.  Until I observe what happens when one tries to cross them – or hire them and they are disinclined to accept.  You can learn much from how a man – or woman – fights.  As much as they fit in, they do not fit."  
   
"Is this idle curiosity on your part or do you have a point?" Mal cut in impatiently.  
   
Yiu didn't blink, didn't move, the look in his eye lending weight to his words when he said, "It _was_ idle curiosity.  They turned away my people, gave Coram a visit, but they caused no trouble.  Then they help you destroy Coram.  And now I have you on my doorstep wondering what comes next."  
   
"They had no part in me coming here," said Mal with the problem laid out plain.  "I just want a fair price for my cargo and then I'm gone."  
   
"Yet Crichton and Sun will remain.  And I will continue to wonder.  What was the price for their help?"  
   
Zoe wasn't sure Mal was going to tell him for a moment.  Some sort of point of protecting medical confidence, but enough was at stake.  They needed Yiu if they wanted fuel or food.  Too many jobs had gone bust over the last run.  
   
"Our medic to look at their child."  
   
"Hm."  Yiu nodded over his fingertips, weighing the answer.  Finally, he named his price, and added, "You take them with you when you leave."  
   
Mal haggled over the details, and Zoe relaxed a fraction as the conversation eased into more familiar territory.  In her pocket, the radio sputtered.  She stepped back toward the door to answer while the talking went on.  It was Simon, and he had a list of doctoring supplies for them.

* * *

It was near dark.  The light that filtered in from the half open cargo bay door softened while they waited for Reynolds and his people to come back with the things the doctor needed.  
   
Whatever he'd given D'argo for the fever seemed to have worked enough to let the rugrat sleep.  He was still too warm, but John was able to convince Aeryn to take a quick break to clean up a bit.  He held D'argo now, his son's grip on his fingers loose and easy.  The doc was fiddling with his scanner.  It was a miniature x-ray without the x-rays and could only see bone and a fuzzy outline of everything else.  "I'll need Kaylee to look at it when she comes back," he'd said earlier while he was asking every question he could think of about the differences between humans and sebaceans.   
   
It had been reassuring that he knew what questions to ask, and the tension had eased slightly that this was going to blow up in their faces.  Still, John kept a wary eye on the door.  
   
Word had gotten around the neighborhood fast and while Joad had only grunted, Gilly had shaken her head and told him to take a hike with best wishes for him and Aeryn.  They'd stirred up a hornets' nest all right, and it didn't look like it was going to shake out easily.  At the moment, with D'argo honest to god sleeping, John could care less.  
   
"You want me to take a look?"  John nodded at the scanner when Simon put it aside at the beep of the machine in the corner.  D'argo's blood work was done.  Simon barely glanced over, his attention on the readout.  
   
"No, it's all right," he said absently.  John watched him work for a minute, calm and sure as he scrolled through the results, and was struck suddenly by the fact that the doc wasn't young because he'd learned on the go, he was young because he was smart.  
   
"How did you end up here?" he wondered more aloud than he intended.  It got the Simon's attention; his head snapped up to stare at John, wide eyed, and John knew that look, could practically see the spike of adrenaline his words had caused.  He dropped his gaze.  "Never mind.  I'm too tired to be thinking straight.  Forget I asked."  
   
But the damage was done.  Simon fidgeted and kept glancing his way, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  John brushed his hand through D's hair, smoothing away the sweat.  
   
"Getting yourself on a ship was smart," he broke the tense silence quietly.  "Best place to be is on the move.  And you've got yourself a good captain."  He didn't look up, didn't want to spook the kid any more than he had.  
   
Simon didn't answer, and when John did glance over he was bent over the screen again, too still to be reading it.  Sensing eyes on him, he turned his head enough to dart a glance John's way then back to the screen.  "Yeah," he said softly.  
   
Another few minutes passed before he really relaxed.  John let him be.

* * *

When Aeryn raised her head to the mirror above the basin, the girl was looking back at her, half hidden behind the door.  Aeryn startled but didn't flinch.  Exhausted, she couldn't think past looking for obvious weapons, and the girl didn't appear to have any.  But the staring was unsettling.  Aeryn shut off the tap and did her best to ignore it.  
   
"The music is different from you," the girl said eventually.  "I don't understand all the words."  
   
Not understanding _her_, Aeryn simply stared at her in the mirror.  Her shoulders felt heavy but the water she'd splashed on her face was still cool against her skin.  
   
"It's strange."  
   
Aeryn looked back at her tired self then grabbed the towel folded next to the basin.  She didn't know what the girl meant.  "What's your name?"  
   
"River."  
   
"Maybe it should be strange, River."  Aeryn put the towel aside and faced her.  
   
"Everything's too strange, too much.  Like birds.  They're dinosaurs.  That's where birds started from.  Birds-that-were."  
   
Aeryn blinked a couple times, wondering where that had come from and if it mattered.  "I need to go back to my family now."  
   
"He's not afraid, you know."  
   
"Who?"  
   
"River!"  The girl mechanic, Kaylee, came rushing in with an apologetic smile for Aeryn making the girl's excuses.  
   
"Don't need to bother her none," she said tugging River by the elbow out of the papered rooms.  
   
"Their heads are cut off.  The wiring's all different," said River, staring over her shoulder at Aeryn as she let herself be dragged away.  "Don't let them rewire you!"  
   
"Kaylee!"  The captain was back, and Aeryn shook off the girl's utterances that were as strange as John's and followed them back toward the cargo hold.  She watched Jayne carry a box to the infirmary where Simon accepted it with a smile, but before she could follow, Reynolds's voice stopped her.  
   
"You might want to get your husband for this talk."  
   
"Talk about what?" asked Aeryn sharply.  
   
"Just get your husband," said Reynolds.  "Things turned a mite complicated."

* * *

Crichton and Sun listened solemnly as Mal laid out Yiu's terms.  "Way I figure it, you come safely with us or he'll set his men on you."  He consciously loosened his jaw from clenching shut because Mal was not in the habit of being pushed around when it came to ferrying people.  For all that he liked the pair, he didn't know them, and Serenity had enough trouble to last them till White Sun died.  
   
"I'll not force you," he went on.  "But if you want to stay, I need you off my boat so we can leave quick before Yiu gets wind of it."  
   
The pair of them exchanged a look over their boy's head.  He was still fast asleep in his father's arms.  Mal didn't need them to say it; their answer was as plain as day, but Crichton nodded anyway.  
   
"We'll stay with you till our son's better," he more said than asked, and Mal didn't have the heart to say no.  They'd made this deal already and he was of more of a mind to keep his end of this one.  
   
"That'll be fine.  If you can pay fare that'd be better, but with getting kicked off your planet –"  
   
"We can pay," said Sun quietly.  "How long before we leave?"  
   
"Tomorrow at the earliest.  Yiu's people won't be here for the cargo before dawn."  
   
Sun stood and nodded.  "I'll go retrieve our things."  
   
"Actually," Simon interrupted from the other side of the room.  It was his infirmary and Mal hadn't kicked him out for their little chat, but the interruption was unexpected.  Simon shifted slightly at their combined stares.  "I need you," he told Sun, awkwardly.  "For the test I'm running, I need to check your antibodies and run a screen for any genetic conditions that may be causing complications."  
   
"And that cain't wait till she gets back?" Mal lifted two eyebrows because Simon was running at the mouth and he only did that when he was nervous.  
   
Simon just stared blankly back for a second then his eyes widened the way they did when he thought someone was being especially dense.  "D'argo doesn't have time for me to waste."  
   
"Definitely switching places then," said Crichton.  Sun was already accepting the boy from him, shuffling out of Crichton's way.  Mal looked between them and Simon who was avoiding his eyes now, wondering why something that shouldn't take more than a tissue swab or a five minute draw of blood needed her staying in particular.  Then he got it.  "You diseased?"  
   
The three froze.  "No!"  "Yes!" Crichton and Simon said at the same time, all of them just shifty enough for Mal to know something wasn't right.  
   
"Which is it?" he demanded.  
   
"It's non-transmissible," Simon said hastily, and that at least might have been true except for the way Sun and Crichton shared a look that held more than was being said aloud.  
   
Mal folded his arms across his chest, starting to get mighty annoyed.  "If someone don't start explaining . . .  You said it wasn't catching."  
   
Crichton's hands rested above his hips, near his holster, a move Mal read easy as day.  "It's not."  Not dangerous yet, but Mal understood fully what Yiu meant about Crichton being no pushover.  
   
"Mal, it's not," Simon repeated, stepping closer to him.  "I wouldn't let anything like that aboard."  
   
"Then why'd you say it was?"  
   
"I said she might have a disease, not that she was contagious," snapped Simon. "That's only a guess and I won't know unless I can run my tests." The pointed request for Mal to get out of his way went unsaid and just made Mal's teeth grind all the harder.  
   
"It's genetic," said Sun suddenly.  From the bench, she met Mal's eyes and held them.  "The fewer people who know that . . . "  She tried to hide it, but couldn't quite keep the fear out of her words.  Simon glanced away and it didn't take a genius to know what was running through his mind.  
   
Mal let out a breath.  He understood their caution, but that didn't mean he had to like it.  He loosened his arms and ran a hand through his hair.  "Then I reckon it's not my business."  
   
"I'm sorry," said Crichton, and he sounded like he was.  "I know our being here is no help, but –"  
   
"You got your boy to look after."   
   
Crichton nodded and relaxed a fraction.  Trust was there, fragile and with a side helping of caution, but it was there.  
   
Mal really had no idea what he'd ever done to deserve it.   
   
Simon was leaning back against the counter.  They all were waiting on him.  Mal fixed his doctor with a glare.  "As long as it ain't catching," he looked back at the small family,  "You do what you gotta do."

* * *

Wash set them a leisurely course to Persephone and Mal and Zoe holed up on the Cortex looking for their next job.  Yiu had paid them extra for a courier run to several of his business interests along the way, small crates of messages that couldn't be sent over the waves.  With the number that were on ice, Mal had half a mind not to deliver most of them, and he made sure Kaylee and River didn't poke around.  
   
Their guests stayed holed up with Simon in the infirmary while he ran his tests, and when they weren't there they were sleeping in the guest quarters, only taking meals with the crew on occasion.  It was Simon that no one saw hide nor hair of outside the infirmary.  Kaylee brought him dinner and only River standing in the doorway was sometimes able to draw him out.  Her new pastime was staring at Crichton or Sun like she couldn't figure them.  They couldn't figure her either, but were wise enough to keep quiet about it.  By some miracle, she seemed to have a run of good days.  
   
The time passed but a subtle tension permeated the boat.  Little D'argo was stable but still sick and everyone held a worry for him that itched under the skin.  
   
Two days in the black and they made land fall on Kerry, another three and they stopped at Athens where Simon had another supply list to go out with the messages, and then they were passing into the gap between systems.  
   
At dinner that night, Sun joined them, eating quickly and ignoring the chatter between Jayne and Wash.  
   
"How's your son doing?" Inara asked quietly a few minutes in.  
   
Sun gave a tight smile.  "Better.  He no longer vomits and the fever has come down."  
   
"That's quite an improvement."  
   
"Yes."  She was still worried but the bags under her eyes had eased.  "Simon thinks the worst is over now."  
   
Indeed, the next morning when Mal came into the galley for tea, Crichton, Sun, their boy, and Simon were all awake and eating mash.  D'argo was pale and thin but his eyes were clear as his mother fed him, stopping only when he saw Mal.  
   
"Captain," Simon greeted him with a wide smile that made Mal look twice before he figured Simon was too sleep deprived and hopped up on success to be his usually ornery self.  
   
"Well, look who's awake," said Mal, grinning at the boy.   
   
Sun was practically glowing, and Crichton slowly straightened from where he'd been half laid out on the table watching.  He was a bit of a mess, his t-shirt twisted where it had ridden up and more than a days stubble on his cheeks.  But he grinned at Mal and said, "Woke up hungry this morning," like it was the great news it was.  
   
The boy still stared at Mal, not shy, but easily distracted when Sun waved another spoonful of protein in front of him.  Mal patted Simon on the shoulder as he passed to the kitchen.  
   
"We're a few days out from Persephone still."  He set the kettle on and rummaged for the tea box.  "Have you given any thought to where you want to settle?"  
   
"Kaylee said she knew a junker who might be looking for some help," said Crichton.  His shrug morphed into a full body stretch.  "We'll land on our feet somewhere."  
   
"We'll be set down a day or so," said Mal.  "I know a few people who might be able to help you find a place if you don't mind dealing with some rattling old soldiers."  
   
Crichton grinned, relief showing in his eyes.  "Our kind of people."

* * *

The last week had been hell, a dream that John still couldn't quite wrap his head around, filled with medical tests, a crying toddler, and past exhaustion catching up with him and Aeryn.  Being kicked off Boros hadn't helped, but strangely, that didn't worry John at all.  Starting over sucked but it held none of the fear that it should have, especially with no money and only a handful of dubious contacts awaiting them.  He put it down to his messed up sense of danger and the fact that he only had time to worry about D'argo and his body hadn't figured out there was anything else to worry about.  
   
"Told you," Aeryn said the morning D'argo had woken up hungry, and she'd smiled brilliantly as she'd wrapped them both up in her arms.  They were together, D'argo was going to be fine, and against that, there was nothing they couldn't make it through.  
   
Persephone's Eavesdown Docks were as bustling as those on Boros.  Loud with hawkers, rich with the smells of fuel and charred food.  The day before, John had gone to find one of Reynolds's contacts, and after a little negotiating they had a roof over their heads for the next week.  
   
Now he and Aeryn stood at the bottom of the ramp.  Reynolds and Simon had followed them out, their other goodbyes done with.  
   
"Thank you, for everything." Aeryn held out her hand, shaking with Reynolds first, then Simon.  
   
"Same to you."  
   
"Take good care of him," said Simon, nodding to D'argo leaning against John's leg.  "You know how to reach us if anything comes up."  
   
John nodded, grateful for the offer.  Finding this crew had been practically a miracle all on its own.  "If you ever come back and need a hand breaking in somewhere – or out," he said.  
   
Reynolds grinned, a friendly shark.  "I'll keep you in mind.  Good luck to you."  
   
"You too."  
   
With a final nod, they turned back to their boat and John and Aeryn turned for their new home.  
   
"It's as scummy as Boros," said Aeryn as they passed by the dock post.  Behind them, they heard Serenty's ramp closing up and turned to watch.  A minute later the powerful engines rumbled to life and the heat and noise knocked them back a step as it shivered through their bodies.  Then she was up, up and spinning through the clouds, reaching for the Black.  
   
John swung D into his arms, warm and content when his son wrapped his arms around John's neck.  "What do you think, kiddo?"  
   
D'argo rested his chin on John's shoulder, eyes still glued to the sky.  "Fly more!"  
   
John laughed, and Aeryn said as she shouldered their bags, "Some day, D'argo."  She let her own wistful smile find John and then led them into the push of life around them.  
   
For now they had a fresh start to build.

* * *

  
The End 


End file.
